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“It’s Red,” Alina told her, out of breath. Tears had left streaks down her face, and dirt had caked on her nightgown.
Sorin didn’t need to know more—Alina’s panicked state was enough. She grabbed her black cloak and slung it over her shoulders, feeling the warmth of the material as its weight pulled it down. She slipped on her shoes and climbed out the window, quietly cursing as she smacked her elbow into the sash.
Sorin grabbed Alina’s arm and led her away until they were safe from prying eyes. “Tell me everything.”
Alina took a deep breath, trying desperately to compose herself. It was a talent she mastered from a young age, keeping her head on straight or at least appearing that way to others. It protected her from gaining unwanted attention. Sorin could see right through it and knew immediately that Alina had not been protected from love; the spell had somehow failed. She’d fallen in love with Red. “I saw her walking through the streets. Something was controlling her, Sorin.” Alina calmed herself down enough to speak without hiccups. “I yelled, I pushed her back…no matter what I did, she wouldn’t stop.”
“Your spell to prevent love must not have worked,” Sorin mused. “When you both joined blood during Red’s initiation, it may have created conflict in the magic.”
“We have to save her,” Alina begged.
It became clear to Sorin that the protection spell—at least for Red—had not worked either. Alina was hopelessly in love with Red, and Red was sacrificed to the Wolf.
Sorin pressed her lips into a tight line, looking at Alina. The weight of saving Red was on her shoulders now, and it was a heavy burden to bear. Pressing her fingers to her temples to relieve her building stress, Sorin wondered if it was possible to break the dreaded curse. Though she knew little about it, having only moved to the town recently, she knew it was not a typical sacrifice. There was only one fact that every version of the story agreed upon—a seasoned witch created the curse. It would take a seasoned witch to break it.
No answers came, and Sorin grew frustrated when her train of thought ran nowhere. There was no answer dangling in front of her, not even just out of reach. There was nothing. She looked at Alina, realizing she wouldn’t accept that as a response. Instead, she kept quiet.
“We could go after her,” Alina suggested. “Perhaps she was protected from the Wolf but not the curse; maybe he won’t be able to lay a hand on her.”
“You really believe the Wolf molests them?” Sorin asked, her thick brow arched. Her words hung in the air, making Alina frown.
“That’s what all the stories say.” Alina sounded so young when she said it.
“My parents never read me the story,” Sorin said. Her parents never knew of Silvania, the Wolf that haunted it, or the witchcraft that it held. “I have heard bits and pieces. The story of a wolf who will take any woman who has been defiled and steal them away? I know that many, many girls in this town have been defiled and are still safe and sound. Alina, it is just a story adults use to keep their girls obedient. They have always wanted to keep women subservient; everywhere I have lived has been the same. Perhaps this Wolf is not as cruel as he is made out to be. The legend states a daughter is to be sacrificed to the Wolf, then he will slaughter a bloodline of the initiator’s choosing.”
Young women came to Sorin’s home in a desperate attempt to prevent pregnancy after a night of bliss. She had seen many faces, and they still wandered Silvania without consequences because Sorin ensured it. Already, she had drawn too much attention to herself and her abilities. Shamed for being different and a newcomer who struggled to learn the language in her first few months there, being a known witch only made things worse. Knowing the protection spell was failing, Sorin wondered how much longer she could remain in Silvania before they ran her out of town.
Alina sighed, bringing Sorin back to the present, to what was relevant now. “But he has her.” A crease formed between Alina’s brows as tears threatened again.
Sorin pursed her lips, then dipped her head into a single nod. “He does. So we go find her.”
Alina looked relieved, then worried. “What will we do? Ask for her back?”
Sorin frowned, wishing Alina would stop asking questions she didn’t have the answers to. Going in without anything more than her next step was Sorin’s plan. She grabbed her shoulders. Though she did not believe her own words, she told Alina what she needed to hear. “The protection spell may hold, and that is all we have to work with. We must work with it for Red’s sake.”
Alina nodded. “You are right. We must try.”
Sorin released Alina and looked in the direction of the forest. A forest she spent so much time in and fell in love with, the only safe place she could retreat into. A place where energy surrounded and caressed her, never threatening to uproot her. While many felt safe within the town’s borders, Sorin always felt the eyes of scrutiny on her. As if someone waited for her to slip up, to reveal her true nature and her Craft. In the forest, she felt safe. But now, as she peered into the dark woods, she felt afraid for the first time.
She put on a brave face for Alina and grabbed her hand. “Come, we cannot waste any more time.”
They soon reached Alina’s house, where she had last seen Red as she cut through in her possessed state, bracing themselves for what they might find. Before they made it into the woods, a shrill scream filled the air from two houses down.
16
OCLEAU
THE YEAR OF THE CURSE
MATTHIAS
Matthias watched Azalea’s face carefully as she waited for Ana’s reply. From her stony expression, he could tell it was a test to see if Ana was being truthful about her husband. If he truly beat her, she would not be opposed to him being abused in return. A wolf controlled by a witch had been attempted many times before. In trials all around the continent, men and women were caught after a full moon frenzy, and they pointed their bloodied fingers at a witch—often an innocent woman—who was strung up alongside them for her crimes. Azalea did not wish to draw more attention to herself and her family, but the protection of a wolf proved to be quite tempting.
Ana stammered, “C-control him?”
“It may not be possible,” Azalea explained, bitterness filling her voice. “But should I find the correct spell, I will protect my family using your husband. A werewolf in town is dangerous and unpredictable; they kill and they create packs. My family could be the first he slaughters because he smells that his wife has been here. I can make sure it is not you who he comes for.”
Ana winced at the words, visibly stung.
